


Brilliant World

by HamHamHeaven



Series: Greyscale [18]
Category: AKB48, Jrock, MUCC, lynch.
Genre: Alternate Universe - Soulmates, Colorblind Soulmate AU, Found Family, M/M, Slice of Life, single mother
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-03-20
Updated: 2018-07-03
Packaged: 2019-04-05 05:12:44
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 8
Words: 7,722
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/14036928
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/HamHamHeaven/pseuds/HamHamHeaven
Summary: Some shocking news sets Tatsurou and Hazuki's relationship on an entirely unexpected path.





	1. What

**Author's Note:**

> This started out as something entirely different, and then this specific plot took over. I will add the snippets of other characters' lives to a different story once these muses have calmed the @#$% down.

In romantic novels and films, characters often say that they can “just tell” whenever something is bothering their significant other, as if there’s some secret psychic connection formed when you fall in love.   In general, Tatsurou would say that he’s fairly attuned to Hazuki’s moods; however, he’s completely oblivious to any serious problem that night despite the fact that Hazuki has been tossing and turning and trying unsuccessfully to fall asleep for the last hour.

“Something bothering you, Hazu?” he finally asks sleepily.

He figures it’s a sore shoulder or a stiff neck: something a few minutes’ massage or a pain pill will put right.  The very last thing he expects to hear is Hazuki whisper:

“Yuki’s pregnant.”

Boy, does _that_ cure Tatsurou of his drowsiness!

“Pregnant!  She’s sure?”

Hazuki rolls over and glares at his boyfriend.

“Obviously she’s sure.  Stupid question,” Tatsurou amends.  “And… _you_ are the…?”

Even though he allows the sentence to trail off, Hazuki flinches.

“I… might be… given how far along she is.  She asked me to go to the clinic with her next week to get a paternity test so we can be sure….”

Tatsurou doesn’t quite know what to say.  Pregnancy has always seemed a terrifying, utterly disastrous event to him… to the point that he has a difficult time offering sincere congratulations when one is announced – even by friends who are intentionally trying to start a family.

“What am I going to do, Tatsu?” Hazuki groans, burying his face against his lover’s shoulder.  “I’m so not ready to be a father.  I don’t have the time or experience or _money_ to raise a kid.”

Tatsurou draws Hazuki closer and strokes his spine soothingly.

“You’re putting the cart _way_ before the horse, Hazu.  There’s no sense making yourself sick over something that might have nothing to do with you.”

Hazuki ignores Tatsurou’s efforts to soothe.

“I should have been more careful.  I should have….”

“You don’t even know if it was _you_ that did it!” repeats Tatsurou.  “The kid may not be yours.  Even if it is, Yuki might not be interested in your getting involved in any substantial way.  After all, the breakup _was_ her idea.”

Tatsurou brings Hazuki’s hand to his mouth and kisses his knuckles.

“And if the worst should ha-… er, tactless way to phrase that.  If it turns out that the kid _is_ yours, we’ll get through it.”

Hazuki’s head jerks up, eyes filled with confusion.

“W-we?”

“I… mean, unless you don’t want me involved,” Tatsurou backpedals.  “Maybe the two of you will decide that it’s better to… get married or… move somewhere closer to her folks, or….”

“You big idiot,” huffs Hazuki.  “Like I’d move somewhere and not take you with me.  I only meant… well, you hate kids.”

“I don’t _hate_ them,” Tatsurou denies.  “I’m just no good with them.  And I sure as hell don’t want any of my own.”

Hazuki bites his lip and looks away.

“But even if I _did_ hate them, I love _you_.  You can’t seriously think I’d want to split from my best friend over something like his having a kid.”

When Tatsurou says it aloud, it _does_ sound ridiculous, but that’s what Hazuki’s been dreading: that the prospect of dating a dad would send Tatsurou running for the hills.  Hazuki doesn’t reply but snuggles closer against Tatsurou’s neck.

“You can’t get rid of me that easily, Babe.  The only way I’m leaving is if you tell me you can’t stand the sight of my face anymore and kick me to the curb.”

Hazuki gives a grunt of annoyance and nips playfully at Tatsurou’s throat.

“Will you ever let that drop?!  I love your stupid, gorgeous face, okay!”

Tatsurou grins.

“Okay.”

Hazuki rolls his eyes.  Tatsurou is ridiculous, but at least he’s managed to jostle his lover out of the downward spiral of doubt and self-loathing for the time being.

“Whatever happens, I’ll be at your side,” Tatsurou murmurs against the crown of Hazuki’s head.

He turns onto his side, spooning Hazuki tightly against his chest.  With the secret no longer weighing him down, Hazuki quickly drifts off, secure in Tatsurou’s arms.   Tatsurou is slower to find slumber, but he makes a mental note in drowsy half-wakefulness to call his bank about shifting the “saving up for a mustang” account into a higher-yield “preparing for a baby” account.  Just in case.


	2. Whose

Despite barely being large enough for two, there are four adults squeezed into the tiny clinic examination room that afternoon: Tatsurou squatting next to Hazuki’s chair, Yuki perched on the examination table.  And in the corner opposite them all is the doctor with a Manilla folder in his hand – a folder that contains the answer to the question that has been slowly driving Hazuki crazy for the last five days.

_Am I going to be a father?_

The doctor clears his throat and prods his finger-smudged spectacles further up his nose.

“Ah, Hazuki-san, are both of these people… ahem… authorized to…?”

Hazuki snorts.

“She is carrying the child.  I think she’s entitled to hear the paternity results when I do.”

“And… ahem?”

The doctor gestures vaguely at Tatsurou.

“Soulmate,” Hazuki declares, grasping Tatsurou’s hand in his.

It’s a lie, but the sort of assertion that is accepted without further question.  As far as Hazuki is concerned, the specifics of his relationship with Tatsurou aren’t any of this stranger’s business anyhow.

“Indeed.  Then… ahem… I never know quite whether I ought to offer congratulations or condolences in these sorts of situations.”

Yuki’s face goes pale in mortification, and Hazuki is silently counting to ten before giving the man a dressing-down when Tatsurou beats him to it.

“I think in these sorts of situations the _professional_ thing to do would be to stick to facts and keep your irrelevant personal opinions to yourself,” he snaps.

“Ah, facts…yes, well… facts,” the physician sputters comically.

Yuki covers her mouth with her hand to hide her laughter.

“The… ahem… facts are that Hazuki-san is not the father.”

Her smile disappears immediately, and Hazuki’s jaw nearly hits the floor.

“I’m not?!”

“Ninety-nine point nine percent certainty.”

The doctor hands both Yuki and Hazuki sealed envelopes, presumably containing copies of the test result summary.  Hazuki stares at it.

“I’m not the father.”

“You’re not the father,” Tatsurou confirms, squeezing Hazuki’s hand and grinning up at his lover.

Hazuki leans down and kisses Tatsurou very hard.

“I’m not the father, Tatsu!”

Tatsurou is about to congratulate his boyfriend when a loud sniff interrupts.  Yuki has her face turned away from them but is clearly in tears from the way her shoulders are shaking.  Thoughts of celebration fade instantly.

“Oh Kiki!”

Hazuki reaches out to rub her back, but she pulls away from his touch.

“You g-got what you w-wanted.  Just go.”

Hazuki and Tatsurou exchange guilty looks.  They hadn’t stopped to consider what Yuki might want in the situation – that she might be hoping the child _was_ Hazuki’s based on who the alternative might be.

“I’m sorry, Yuki-chan,” Hazuki apologizes.

She ignores him, and an awkward silence fills the room.  Tatsurou gets to his feet and moves to the corner that the doctor had vacated at some point during the uproar.  His eyes roam the small countertop and shelves as he tries to make himself as scarce as the cramped space will allow.  Cotton balls, tongue depressors, latex gloves – the usual décor.  There’s also a box of tissues, which he tosses onto the examination table beside her.  The movement startles her, but she grabs a handful to wipe her eyes and nose.     

“Do you have a ride home?” Tatsurou asks.

“Train,” she sniffs.

He shakes his head.

“That’s no way for a pregnant lady to travel when she’s upset.  Come on; we’ll take you home.”

Yuki seems inclined to refuse, but after several failed attempts to find her purse on the floor through the tears, she gives him a reluctant nod.  She doesn’t let either man help her down, though, and strides her way out of the clinic ahead of them as if she knows exactly where Tatsurou’s sedan is parked.  Hazuki rushes after her, determined to at least _attempt_ to open the door for her, while Tatsurou brings up the rear, mentally debating whether it’s worth calling out a reminder that his locks aren’t automatic.

 

The drive to Yuki’s new building is as uncomfortably quiet as things had been in the clinic.  Hazuki can’t think of anything he might say to break the tension, and Tatsurou is too busy concentrating on carefully navigating late-afternoon traffic.  When Tatsurou pulls up to the curb, Hazuki jumps out to open the door for her again, and walks her to the door even though her expression makes it clear she’d rather he didn’t.

“You know, Kiki… even though it’s not mine, if you ever need anything…,” he offers.

She turns to glare at him.

“Go to hell, Hazuki.”

Hazuki is frowning as he climbs back into the vehicle.

“Give her a few days,” Tatsurou advises.

“I guess,” Hazuki sighs.  “I dunno, Tatsu.  I was so worried about it being mine, and now… I feel almost guilty that it’s not.”


	3. Where

“What are you doing here, Hazuki?”

In Tatsurou’s opinion, that’s not a very promising beginning, but Hazuki seems completely immune to Yuki’s cold greeting.

“Where do you want us to put this stuff?”

Yuki’s eyes widen as she finally notices the stack of boxes sitting next to her door.

“Wh-what’s all this!”

“Baby stuff,” Hazuki answers as if it’s the most natural and obvious answer.  “Do you have a separate room you’ll be using for him, or….”

“Now hold on just one second!” she exclaims as he tries to move past her into the flat.  “No one invited you in.  And no one asked you to make any charitable contributions either, so you can just haul every last one of these things back to wherever the he-….”

“Excuse me!”

A shrewish-looking woman with a sour expression glowers at them from across the corridor.

“Would you _mind_ keeping your voices to a more civilised volume?  _Some_ of us have important things to do which require quiet and concentration.”

“Sorry, Hizaki-san,” Yuki apologizes, obviously cowed by her neighbour.  “I… we’ll discuss this inside.”

“You can’t leave all of this blocking the passage,” the woman mandates.  “That’s a violation of fire code.”

Hazuki grits his teeth.  Meanwhile, Tatsurou puts on his fakest customer service smile and stretches himself up to full height, practically looming over the woman’s doorway.

“We’ll be sure to leave a path clear to the stairs so you can escape any fires, Auntie.”

The woman, who couldn’t possibly be more than Tatsurou’s age, turns purple with rage at the term normally reserved for _old_ women, and slams the door.

“So much for civilized volume,” Tatsurou observes loud enough that she’s sure to have heard him.

“Would the two of you get out of here before you get me evicted,” Yuki hisses.

“Not until these boxes are in your place,” reminds Tatsurou.  “We wouldn’t want to be a fire hazard.”

Yuki can tell she’s not going to win against her ex’s boyfriend, so she throws up her hands and shuffles back into the flat to her favourite chair.  The boxes are _their_ problem.

Hazuki and Tatsurou slide the stacks inside the genkan as quickly as they can, shoving things this way and that until there’s enough space to get the door shut.  Then they follow her into the main room.

“Now, please explain what all that is and why you brought it here,” she orders.

“Like I said, it’s baby stuff.  Furniture mostly, though I think Nee-chan threw in a sterilizer and some bottles too.”

“Why is your sister sending me baby furniture?” Yuki queries sceptically.

“Because her youngest is three, and she doesn’t need it anymore,” Hazuki shrugs.  “No sense throwing it out when someone else could use it.”

Yuki scowls.

“I don’t need anything.”

“Oh, do you already have a crib hidden somewhere?” Hazuki looks around pointedly.  “And a swing?  And a changing station?  And a pram?  If you do, then of course, we’ll get rid of all this.”

She bites her lip.  She has none of those things, and baby furniture is so expensive.  Still, she has her principles.

“It’s not charity, Kiki,” Hazuki entices.  “It’s just giving someone a hand.  When you and the kid are finished with them, you can pass them along to the next person.  What’s wrong with that?”

Hazuki scrutinizes her expression, while Tatsurou watches her hand unconsciously petting her abdomen.

“Fine,” she relents.  “But you have to put it all together.  And good luck with that, because I don’t own a screwdriver.”

 

“Can I ask you something?” Tatsurou murmurs into Hazuki’s hair that night as they bask in the afterglow.

“Hmm?”

“Why did you lie about the furniture being from Nee-chan?  And for that matter, why go to the trouble of finding Yuki-chan that second-hand furniture in the first place?” he asks.  “The kid isn’t even yours.”

Hazuki shifts onto his stomach, tracing invisible tattoos onto Tatsurou’s skin and avoiding eye contact.

“Miya told Satochi that Mally told him that Yuki told _her_ that the actual father has up and vanished.  Number disconnected, no forwarding address, the whole bit.  Sounds like maybe he has some outstanding debts to the wrong sort of people.”

Tatsurou grunts.

“And no, I’m not the father, but… I feel bad for her, you know.  She’s too stubborn to accept help right out, but she obviously needs it.  And at this point, I’m pretty much all she’s got.”

Tatsurou isn’t happy about the idea of Hazuki being all Yuki has, but he keeps his doubts to himself for the time being.


	4. Why

**I need you to take Yuki to her ultrasound appointment.**

Tatsurou stares down at the screen of his mobile trying to think of an inoffensive way of telling his boyfriend there’s no way in hell he’s going to be taking the ex-girlfriend to an ultrasound.  Not his kid, not his responsibility.  It’s not Hazuki’s responsibility either, for that matter, but the tattoo artist has apparently taken it upon himself the role of noble samurai rescuing the maiden in distress.  Over the past three months, Hazuki has been injecting himself back into Yuki’s life: taking her to appointments, running errands, dropping by at random hours with something for a craving or a sore back or an upset stomach.

Tatsurou sniffs in disgust. 

He feels bad for Yuki.  He _does._   It must really suck having another being _growing_ inside you that you’ll be forced to deal with for the next eighteen or so years until it’s old enough to be legally responsible for itself.  All because of an accident.

Tatsurou squirms.

 _I’m never touching another woman as long as I live,_ he vows.

Even so, he doesn’t see why Hazuki is the only person who can do things for her.  She has a family somewhere… presumably, and some friends, probably.  He really doesn’t know; he always did his best to avoid anyone Hazuki dated because watching Hazuki with anyone else hurt too much.

**Tatsu, I’m not screwing around.**  
**This client is being super demanding,**  
**And she’s counting on me to be there at 2.**

He sighs heavily.  There’s no pretending he has things to do.  Hazuki knows Tatsurou plans to waste the day with his game consoles.  But this _really_ shouldn’t be his problem.

**Fine.**

He scowls and throws the mobile across the room, being sure to aim for the pile of cushions on the sofa.  He’s pissed off, but not to the point of being willing to sacrifice his phone.

 _Dammit, this means I have to put on pants_.

 

If there’s any consolation to be found, it’s the resentful expression on Yuki’s face when he stops at the curb in front of her building.

_He didn’t tell her it was going to be me.  Somebody’s going to be in trouble._

“Where is he?” she demands as she lowers herself to the seat.

“Working,” Tatsurou replies tersely, “Toward financial stability.”

Her cheeks darken.

_That’s right; I’m well aware of the excuses you made when you left him._

Things fall quiet between them as he manoeuvres onto the highway, the only sounds the rhythmic click of the turn signal and the creak of leather as she tries to find a comfortable position to sit in.

“You can stay in the waiting room,” she eventually instructs.  “I don’t want you in the examination room with me.”

Tatsurou snorts.

“ _Or_ I can go hang out in the internet café across the street, and you can come find me when you’re done.  Like I’m gonna spend two hours sitting in some cramped plastic chair pretending to read last year’s parenting magazines.”

Yuki is about to tell him off when it occurs to her that maybe he _shouldn’t_ be allowed unsupervised in the waiting room with all those expectant mothers.

“Give me your mobile.”

“Why?”

“So I can input my number.  I’m too pregnant to go wandering the street in search of your ass.  I’ll text when we’re finished.”

“Are you always this shrill?” he gestures toward his phone in the console.

Her glare is pointedly ignored.

“Only with you.  I don’t like you.”

Tatsurou shrugs.

“That’s fine.  I don’t really like you either.”

“You were always in the way,” she continues, apparently in a confrontational mood, “This perpetual threat tainting everything – the shadow of a third person who had no right to be there hanging over Hazuki’s head.”

“No right?” scoffs Tatsurou.  “He was mine _long_ before he was yours.”

“Except he _wasn’t_ ,” she smacks the handle of the door. “You _could_ have had him, I’ll admit, if you’d just been man enough to admit you wanted him.  But you never did; you just… lurked.  And he kept holding back from me hoping that you’d eventually get around to him.” 

Tatsurou has spent a lot of time thinking about what could have been and how things must have felt from Hazuki’s perspective, but he’s never bothered to consider it from Yuki’s.  He’s not inclined toward sympathy at the moment.

“You’re the one who broke it off with him.”

“I got tired of being runner-up.  You’re a selfish asshole, Tatsurou; you always have been.  Even now, when you _know_ he could be….”

“He could be what?” Tatsurou jeers, “Saddled with someone else’s mistake?  Seems to me _you’re_ the selfish one: throwing him aside until you need him then manipulating him back into your life.  Knowing he’s too dependable a guy to tell you to piss off like he ought to.”

“Stop the vehicle.”

Her lips are trembling with fury, and his grip on the wheel is so tight, his knuckles are white.

“I _said_ ….”

“I heard what you said.  I can’t stop in the middle of fucking traffic.”

He changes lanes, looking for a place to park, but she’s unwilling to wait that long.  As soon as they stop at a traffic light, she opens the door.

“Hey, wait.  You can’t….”

“I’m taking a taxi home.  If I find you waiting for me, I swear to god I will smash your windshield.”

With that, the door slams shut, the light turns green, and Tatsurou is forced to drive off so as not to cause a traffic jam.  The entire ride home, his mood fluctuates between “how dare that ungrateful bitch” and “Hazuki is going to be so pissed”.


	5. Which

Hazuki is indeed pissed by the time he arrives at Tatsurou’s flat.  Yuki left _two_ very angry voicemails reading him the riot act over his absence and his boyfriend’s behaviour.  Her messages were rather vague as to exactly what happened, and Hazuki would like to give his lover the benefit of the doubt, so he’s willing to allow Tatsurou the chance to explain himself.  The explanation, whatever it may be, had better be good though, because Hazuki has used up his quota of ‘bullshit tolerance’ for the day. 

The familiar video game music playing from the other room when he lets himself in only deepens his suspicion that Tatsurou intentionally picked a fight in order to avoid dealing with Yuki.

“Okay, just what the hell… happened?”

The fire goes out of Hazuki at once, replaced by confusion at the sight that greets him.  Tatsurou is on the floor slumped against the front of the sofa, surrounded by empty beer cans.  The television is on, and the game _is_ running, but it’s obvious from the way the character is pacing back and forth that it’s on some sort of standby loop.

“Tatsu?”

No response.

He kneels at Tatsurou’s side and brushes the hair from his face.

 

Tatsurou has been drinking since he got home.  Straight to the kitchen from the genkan and chugs that first beer like he’s some frat boy out of an American comedy doing it for a best friend scorned.  Indignation by proxy.  How dare she treat Hazuki that way, right?  Right!  The second goes down a bit slower as he wraps himself in the cloak of “she’s got some nerve blaming _me_ for all of their problems”.  By the time he’s most of the way through the third, Yuki’s angry words have found their mark and are beginning to spread their venom to the most vulnerable parts of his psyche.

_Selfish asshole._

_No right to be there._

_Holding him back._

 

“Tatsu,” Hazuki tries again, giving his boyfriend’s shoulder a squeeze, “How long have you been drinking?”

“Started when I was 14,” Tatsurou replies acerbically.  “Stole some sake from Nii-san while he was…”

Tatsurou’s eyes are rather bleary and darkly rimmed, but his voice sounds perfectly sober.

“For gods’ sake, Tatsu,” Hazuki sighs.  “You couldn’t just take her to the doctor without starting the next world war?”

“She started it,” mutters Tatsurou sourly.

Although, he’s not entirely sure that’s true.  It’s hard to remember who took the first shot now – not that it matters.

“So are you going to tell me what the battle was about?”

“You.”

Hazuki rolls his eyes.

“I figured that much out myself.”

Tatsurou begins collecting his cans, shaking each in hopes of finding one that isn’t quite empty.

“She started in on how it was my fault the two of you didn’t work out.  How I’m… keeping you from her.  Standing in the way of whatever’s been developing between you lately.”

“What’s been developing between us?” Hazuki frowns.

“Hell if I know.  I’m not the one involved.  But I told her I thought it was manipulative to expect you to bear someone else’s responsibility.”

Hazuki grunts.  He knows his boyfriend well enough to know Tatsurou didn’t phrase it that politely.

“Okay.  Yeah.  That’s… why _she’s_ pissed.  Why are _you_ drinking?”

Tatsurou tries to avoid the question by grabbing for the game controller and exiting to a quieter screen.  Hazuki waits for him to finish, then snatches it away.

“Well?”

“Just started thinking.”

“Dangerous.”

Tatsurou flips him the bird half-heartedly.

“About?”

“The future.  Her.  Us.  About… whether maybe she’s right about me holding you back.  If it wouldn’t… make you happier to… adopt the kid.  Be with her.  Do the whole… ‘family’ thing.”

Hazuki feels like he’s taken a boot to the solar plexus.

“Tatsu.”

“I know you were totally freaked out by the thought of being a dad at first, but lately it seems like that’s what you _want_.  Like you said before, you’re all she and the kid have, and….”

He chokes on the words a little and has to clear his throat.

“You’d make a good dad, I think – strict, but still cool.  I wouldn’t… interfere.  You can just treat this as like… a detour, and get back to being….”

Hazuki isn’t a violent man, but his fist makes sudden, forceful contact with the floor next to Tatsurou’s hip. 

“What happened to ‘I’ll be at your side no matter what’?”

Tatsurou shifts uncomfortably, staring down in disbelief at the now-bloodied knuckles just centimetres from his body.

“What happened to ‘we’ll get through this together’?”

“Hazu….”

“What the _fuck_ happened to ‘you can’t get rid of me that easily’!”

Tatsurou draws breath to respond, but Hazuki cuts him off.

“You know what?  Not another word.  I don’t want to hear another fuckin’ word out of that goddamn mouth of yours.”

As Hazuki is saying this, he’s invading Tatsurou’s lap.  He grabs his boyfriend by the nape of the neck and kisses him: an angry, insistent sort of kiss that makes Tatsurou’s stomach clench.  Bruising.  Hungry. 

“Goddammit, Tatsu,” Hazuki growls against his lover’s lips.  “Don’t _ever_ talk about leaving me again.”

“I….”

“Shut up.”

His lips are claimed once more.  Tatsurou whines, but allows Hazuki to devour him without a fight, melting into it.

_I'm sorry._

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Don't ask me. I don't even know....


	6. Whether

“Yuki, we need to talk.”

Yuki tries not to read too much into the fact that Hazuki is standing on her doorstep, bag of something deliciously aromatic in his hand.   After all, he’s been dropping by unannounced a lot since she mentioned the strange cravings pregnancy causes.  And even though his jaw is set in a very grim sort of expression, the fact that he’s _here_ only a few hours after that ridiculous stunt Tatsurou pulled rather than off coddling his stupid boyfriend….  That has to mean _something_ , right?  Maybe? 

Her hormones tell her to let him in right this second; her head is a bit more pragmatic.

_Let’s see how serious he is._

“No, we don’t,” she denies, and begins to close the door in his face.

The toe of his heavy boot blocks it.

“Yes, we do,” he insists.  “Don’t think I won’t stand here and bang on the door until one of your neighbours calls the cops.”

Hope and doubt flare together.  Hazuki’s very serious, but that could still be a bad thing.

“Don’t you get it?” she gives an angry huff.  “I don’t have anything else to say to you.”

“Maybe not, but after those voicemails, you owe it to me to hear me out.”

Does she?  He _did_ take the brunt of her fury toward Tatsurou.

“Make it quick.”

She snatches the bag from him, and he follows her inside, pausing to remove his shoes.  This gives her enough time to find a plate for her snack, remember that if she _uses_ the plate she’s going to have to wash it later, and then put the plate back in the cabinet.  He can judge her all he likes; she’s eating straight out of the cardboard box.  Hazuki doesn’t judge.  It doesn’t even occur to him that someone might dirty actual dishes for a few pieces of fried chicken.

Yuki grabs a wing, points at the empty seat across from her with it as if directing traffic, and then takes a bite.  Hazuki follows her silent instructions and seats himself opposite her.

“I should start by apologizing.”

That’s not quite what she was expecting.  She licks the sauce from her fingers and eyes him sceptically.

“For what exactly?”

“Well, first, for missing the appointment after I told you I’d be there.”

“I guess you couldn’t exactly leave the client’s tattoo half-finished,” Yuki grudgingly allows.  “That’s _first_.  What’s second?”

“It wasn’t fair of me to be involved with you while I was so wholly in love with someone else.  And my being intentionally blind to my feelings doesn’t excuse the fact that I hurt you.  I’m sorry.” 

Hazuki admitting he was in the wrong throws her for a loop.  She never in a million years dreamed he would. 

_Could that means he regrets the break-up?_

Of course, he has to go and spoil everything by continuing.

“But whatever went wrong in our relationship, whatever I wasn’t giving you that I should have been, that’s on _me_ , not Tatsurou, and it’s not fair to blame him.”

So that’s it.  He’s trying to shoulder his boyfriend’s share of the responsibility.  She should have known.

“I’m not interested you making excuses for him.  He had no right to….”

“He had no right to be rude to you,” Hazuki interrupts, not willing to let her start ranting again.  “He had _every_ right to defend his relationship with me.  You both seem to be getting the wrong impression about what’s going on here, so let me be clear.  If you and the baby need my help at _any_ time, I’m here; I want this kid to have a good life.  But my heart belongs to Tatsurou, and that’s never going to change.  You and I are not getting back together.”

Yuki scowls.

“Why are you even here, Hazuki?  Why are you in my life?  He’s not your kid.  You were so relieved not to be _burdened_ with the responsibility, why do you keep taking me to appointments, and buying me furniture, and showing up at my door with chicken?  If we don’t mean anything to you, _why are you here_?”

She throws the half-eaten wing back into the box in disgust, stomach churning from the resentment and grease.  Hazuki stares down at his feet, weighing his words carefully.

“Because I remember what it’s like growing up without a dad.”

He sighs and runs his hands through his hair.

“I know you will love him, and do your absolute best for him just like my mother did.  And that he will be as grateful for the sacrifices you have to make as Nee-chan and I were.  Doesn’t change the fact that it’s going to be hard for the two of you.  If I can make things even a _little_ easier for you…” he clears his throat harshly, “I want to be someone he can depend on.  But if my being around and helping out is going to ‘lead you on’, maybe it would be better for me to… bow out.  Or find someone to act as go-between:  Mally and Miya maybe.”

She glares at him through the tears stinging her eyes, trying to pull herself together enough that she can snap at him without her voice quavering.

“Did you ever love me at all?”

He grimaces.  The truth is probably going to hurt; still, it’s kinder than false hope.

“It was never… and will never be what I feel for Tatsu.  You knew that.  I wasn’t making you happy; that’s why you ended it in the first place.  Be honest, Kiki.  Do you _want_ to go back to that?  You shouldn’t have to settle for sharing someone if that’s not what you want to do.”

“What other option do I have now?”

There it is – the crux of it all.  No, she doesn’t want to go back to being someone’s second choice, but single mothers have to take what they can get, and less-than-ideal with Hazuki in her life is a hell of a lot less terrifying than doing all of this on her own.

Before she even realizes what’s happened, his arms are around her, and she’s sobbing into his chest.

“It’s okay.  It’s gonna be okay; I promise,” he murmurs over and over again.

If he repeats it enough, maybe he can make it come true.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> **1)** I've been so bad about updating anything recently, but in my defense that's because I've been really bad about... writing things recently. Okay, that's not very convincing, is it? I can't call it writer's block, because I know what's supposed to happen in the story. I just can't seem to make myself care. But I'm trying. Sorry.  
>  **2)** In case it's unclear, no I don't think that single mothers should feel obligated to take whatever they can get: beit in relationships, jobs, housing, or anything else. That's crap. The fact remains that Yuki _feels_ that way, in part because her support system isn't the greatest.


	7. When

If that tear-filled evening proves nothing else, it demonstrates that things between Yuki and Hazuki can’t continue in the same manner.  Someone, or several someones, will get hurt if they do.  Hazuki absolutely means what he’s said about being there for her whenever the baby needs something, but he takes a step back and sends others in his place.  Miya begins dropping by the licensing office around lunchtime once or twice a week, bringing snacks and gossip.  Satochi comes up with all sorts of excuses for visiting Yuki’s neighbourhood that just _happen_ to necessitate taking the same evening train she does.  Mally sits Yuki down and convinces her that maybe her parents wouldn’t _actually_ disown her for having this child; maybe they’ll be thrilled at the prospect of being grandparents.

Hazuki doesn’t stop seeing Yuki altogether, but he makes sure there’s always someone else with him when he drops by.  Tatsurou hates being the one dragged along, because of the constant dirty looks and muttered insults she throws his way, but he makes the best of it because she can’t stay pregnant forever.

…Right?

 

The turning point for Yuki is not her parents’ acceptance of their coming grandson or the increased availability of her old friends.  The three other single mothers in her birthing class are what draw her out of her misery.  Suddenly, Yuki has people in her life that she can go to for advice with zero fear of being pitied or judged.  People she can _believe_ when they say they know just how she feels.  People who complain as much as she does about swollen feet and constant trips to the ladies’ room.  Who have informed opinions on affordable quality baby products and baby names and the absolute _best_ paediatrician in the city.

“You _have_ to go to Dr. Jin,” Shiho declares in her typical ‘you’d better not argue with me’ tone.  “Both of my sisters and my cousin’s wife swear by him.”

“No question,” agrees Ayaka. “He’s very smart without being arrogant like so many of these doctors are nowadays.  And his new clinic is state of the art.”

Naru giggles behind her hand.

“Plus, he and his soulmate are _precious_ together, and they have the sweetest daughter.  She helps out at the clinic answering phones sometimes.”

“Oh yes, you have to go to Dr. Jin,” repeats Shiho.  “I’ll call them so they know you’re a referral.”

Yuki’s network of support has doubled in size.  She stops inviting Hazuki to her appointments because she doesn’t need him there holding her hand anymore.  She stops constantly asking his opinion and hanging on his reassurance that everything will be fine.  She stops lingering at home waiting for him to call; her new friends won’t tolerate any of that.

“We’re going out and having fun. Why shouldn’t we, just because we’ve got a passenger or two in tow?”

(Naru is having twins.)

They _do_ have fun – heaps of it.  Despite the increasing weight and difficulty getting around sometimes, the final month of Yuki’s pregnancy is amazingly enjoyable.  And she gets a tiny surge of satisfaction whenever she can reply to Hazuki’s texts asking if she’s busy with:

**Sorry. I’m out with the girls.**

Hazuki is a little bemused by Yuki’s new-found independence, but he’s happy for her.  She’s found her footing and her confidence, and she doesn’t seem to need him anymore.

Mostly….

 

Hazuki and Tatsurou are having a late breakfast after a long, intense night.  Tatsurou can’t quite keep the lethargic smirk from his face as he observes his lover absently stirring his tea.  Hazuki looks so relaxed.  Perfectly sated.  Tatsurou loves being the reason the tattooist is this contented, even if the memory of how he got that way has Tatsurou’s body heating with desire once more.  Maybe after some food and a nap….

Hazuki’s mobile chimes on the table, and Tatsurou suppresses a huff of annoyance, silently wagering with himself whether it will be Yuki or Ju-Ken who spoils their morning.  He slips an arm around Hazuki’s waist and props his chin on his boyfriend’s shoulder so that he can snoop.

**From: Miya**  
**Baby’s on the way**  
**Yuki told Mally to have me text you**

Hazuki’s posture stiffens, his drowsiness fading to the background.  Tatsurou can feel Hazuki’s heart pounding wildly in his chest, and tries to counter-act it with a joke.

“Only Yuki, Mally, and Miya this time.  Poor Sato-kun got left out of the game.”

Hazuki doesn’t really hear his boyfriend’s words, too fixated on the screen.

**Does she need…**

He types, then deletes ‘need’ and replaces it with ‘want’.  He frowns and erases the entire thing.

**Should I…**

No, wait, that’s too presumptuous.  Maybe this is just an FYI sort of text.

_What the hell am I supposed to do?!_

**Stop typing, and get your ass over here already!**

 

The baby isn’t Hazuki’s, but no biological father could be more agitated than he is as he rushes around like a madman in search of his clothes and personal effects.  Tatsurou just sighs heavily, forces himself from the table, and quietly confiscates both sets of keys so that Hazuki won’t be able argue about being the one to drive.

Surprisingly, Hazuki doesn’t even remember about keys until they are standing next to Tatsurou’s sedan.

“We’re… taking your vehicle then?”

Based on every stereotype he’s ever heard, Tatsurou expects the birth to be a drawn-out process, so he takes his time.  Hazuki, who is practically vibrating in his seat, can’t seem to make up his mind about the situation.

“Nee-chan was in labour for something like twelve hours with her first,” he repeats for perhaps the twentieth time.  “Ba-san said she was ready to kill her husband by the time it was finished.  So there’s plenty of time to get there.” 

He nods, eyes darting this way and that as he follows the motion of the traffic.

“Plenty of time.”

When the stoplight turns red and they are forced to wait, Hazuki begins drumming absently on his knees.

“Why are there so many people out today!” he suddenly exclaims.

Tatsurou rolls his eyes.

“I swear to gods, Hazu, if you don’t calm the fuck down I’m gonna pull into a dark alley and blow you on the back seat just so you won’t annoy the shit out of everyone else in the waiting room.”

Hazuki glares over at his boyfriend.

“How can you possibly be in the mood for car sex at a time like this?”

Fortunately for Tatsurou, the light turns green, and he doesn’t have to provide an answer to such a ridiculous question.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> **1)** Yuki's friends - Watanabe Shiho, Inoue Naru, and Kikuchi Ayaka - were all in AKB48 with Yuki, though I decided not to tag them, as they're not in the story much.


	8. How

As it so happens, there isn’t ‘plenty of time’; labour barely lasts two hours.  Once Hazuki and Tatsurou have secured a parking spot and finally found the right reception desk on the correct floor, all but the very last of the tidying up is already finished.  Hazuki rushes into the waiting room, overcome with so many emotions at the happy smiles on his friends’ faces.

“We missed it?!”

“Not anything you would have wanted to see anyhow,” declares Miya sagely.

“But she might have… needed me,” Hazuki protests weakly.

Mally shakes her head.

“She did great – no more than a minute of anxiety to start.  She barely had to do anything at all really, and there he was.  And her friends were here for her.”

She gestures over at a cluster of three women – two very pregnant and one cuddling a pair of twins – all of whom appear to be sizing him up.  Hazuki assumes these are ‘the girls’ and offers them a polite, if somewhat stiff, bow.  They seem unimpressed.

“Hazuki-san?”

A plump nurse in a crisp uniform calls him from the door.

“Matsuoka-san will see you now.”

Hazuki’s eyes widen, and he turns rather helplessly to Tatsurou.  Tatsurou ignores his own reservations, gives Hazuki’s shoulder a squeeze, and plants a gentle kiss on his cheek.

“Go on.  I’ll be here when you get back.”

Hazuki can feel his lover’s unease and would like nothing more than to drag Tatsurou with him, but that’s a fight he’s not willing to pick just now.  Yuki’s had a stressful morning; the least he can do is give her a break. 

He follows the cheerful woman along the corridor to a multi-person recovery room.  Curtains are drawn around the other beds, but he can hear murmured conversation from somewhere near the windows.  Yuki’s bed is closest to the door, and when the nurse draws back the material a bit to allow him in, she lifts her head briefly off the pillow in greeting.

“Hi, Kiki,” he murmurs softly, drawing close enough to give her a peck on the forehead.  “How are you feeling, Honey?”

She snorts.

“Imagine trying to squeeze a winter melon out of your nostril.”

He grimaces.

“But Mally said you did great,” he praises and kisses her again.

She gives a slight shake of the head.

“It wasn’t as bad as I was afraid it would be.  At least it was over quickly.”

His next comment is interrupted by a different nurse opening the curtain and pushing in a cart topped with a clear plastic basket.  Inside the bassinet lies a tiny bundle swathed in soft flannel.

“Would you like to hold your son?” she asks.

Yuki’s hand squeezing Hazuki’s keeps him from blurting out the truth long enough for him to realize that they probably don’t want anyone other than parents handling babies right away.  So he nods dumbly, and the woman lifts the little heap up and sets it gently in his arms.  He eases himself down onto the edge of the mattress and stares into the scrunched red face of their child. 

No.

Yuki’s child.

“What’s his name?” he whispers.

“Isamu.”

“He’s perfect,” Hazuki compliments.

Yuki watches him thoughtfully – notes the tears shining in his eyes as he studies the baby’s face.

“I couldn’t have done it without you, Hazu,” she admits.  “If you hadn’t been there for me, I’d have given up months ago.  He’s…”

Her chest tightens with emotion.

“As far as I’m concerned, he’s yours, no matter what the DNA said.  I’m not expecting anything from you for myself,” she rushes on, “But I… want you to think of him and…l-love him like he’s yours.”

Hazuki takes in the soft flutter of eyelashes against Isamu’s rounded cheeks, the few dark wisps of hair escaping from beneath his cap, and his little button nose.

“I already do.”

 

The last of the autumn foliage has fallen from the trees and a crisp coldness heavy with the threat of snow has settled.  Tatsurou is quietly going over his bank statements while Hazuki finishes putting the last of his things into _their_ closet.

 “I think I forgot to tell you, Tatsu,” he calls from the bedroom, “Yuki asked me to babysit this afternoon.”

Tatsurou glances up from his papers.

“Why would you subject yourself to that?”

“Spending time with the baby isn’t ‘subjecting myself’ to anything,” Hazuki chides and takes a swat at Tatsurou’s head as he returns.  “And I agreed to watch him because Yuki has a date.”

Tatsurou finds that information interesting despite himself.

“A date!  Who with?”

“A friend of a friend she met at the salon, I think,” shrugs Hazuki.  “I didn’t ask for details.”

Tatsurou nods.  It’s probably best not to know specifics of your ex-girlfriend’s love life.  And good for Yuki getting back in the game if she’s found someone who interests her.  Only, why does it have to be _Hazuki_ and not one of her friends minding the baby?

“When you say ‘babysitting’…, exactly how long are we talking?”

“However long dinner and a movie last.” 

Hazuki can see the scowl forming on Tatsurou’s brow.

“I’m not sleeping over, if that’s what you’re worried about.”

“Who’s worried?” Tatsurou retorts too quickly to be believed.

Hazuki wraps an ink-covered arm around Tatsurou’s shoulder.

“You are, Babe.  Over nothing.  This is their first date, and Yuki’s not ready to be away from Isamu overnight.  Of course, I don’t know how much she likes the guy, but I’d be willing to bet she’ll be home before 10.”

Ten is an early night when you’re the one on the date; when you’re the one waiting for the babysitter to come home, it seems terribly late.

“I… should I come along?” Tatsurou offers.

Hazuki gapes at Tatsurou in surprise.

“Do you _want_ to come along?”

“No,” Tatsurou crosses his arms defensively over his chest.  “But genetics or not, he’s practically yours, and I can’t exactly hide from my step-kid forever.  Besides, you… might need some help.  Babies are a handful… I’ve heard.”

Hazuki isn’t going to comment on ‘step-kid’, no matter how much it warms his heart to hear.

“Babies _are_ a handful,” he agrees with a grin.

 

Which is how Tatsurou finds himself sitting cross-legged on Yuki’s floor with an infant in his arms.  Ever the helpful one, Hazuki has decided to empty Yuki’s recycling and dustbins for her, leaving his boyfriend to hold the baby, since the instant he’s put down, he starts to fuss.  Tatsurou gives the child a reproachful look.

“I think he loves you more than he does me,” he asserts.  “Not the same _way_ , obviously, but definitely more.”

Naturally, Isamu doesn’t respond to this allegation, too busy wriggling. Tatsurou tries to hold the baby securely enough that he won’t feel like he’s falling while simultaneously keeping him at arm’s length.  It works about as well as you imagine it would – not at all. 

“You know,” Tatsurou continues, “Everyone always claims that things will feel different when the kid is yours.  But you are as close to _mine_ as I ever intend to get, and it’s no different at all….”

The baby gives a little grunt.

“No offense, Kid.  I just don’t get what all the fuss is about.   I mean, I know it’s not your _fault_ you’re this helpless and haven’t got any way of telling us what you want except screaming your head off.  But it works a fellow’s nerves.  And I can’t even tell you to shut the hell up, because you don’t actually know what that means.”

He frowns.

“Maybe once you’re old enough to hold a conversation,” he allows.  “Then we can teach you how to play ball and ride a bike and pinch cookies behind your mum’s back.  Not your dad’s cigarettes, though.  I love your dad like crazy, but don’t you pick up that particular habit from him, okay?”

Hazuki stands silently in the doorway listening to Tatsurou’s one-sided conversation with their son, heart so full it might just burst.

“Dude, be more awkward,” he teases.  “Honestly, who holds a baby like that!”

“I told you I’m no good with kids,” Tatsurou complains.  “Here.  Take this thing before I break it.”

Hazuki rolls his eyes but drops to the floor at Tatsurou’s side and reclaims his son.

“He’s a person, Tatsu, not a _thing_.”

Tatsurou watches the blanket-wrapped bundle against his boyfriend’s chest suspiciously.

“If you say so….”

Hazuki leans over and gives Tatsurou a lingering kiss.

“Well, even if you’re not great with kids, we’ll get through it.  Won’t we?”

Tatsurou wraps an arm around Hazuki’s hips.

“Yeah, we will.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> **1)** Fic title comes from a beautiful MUCC [song of the same name](https://vimeo.com/248102017).  
>  **2)** Isamu's name, 力, means “power, strength, to bear up, or to exert”. Seemed a good name for him, given the circumstances of his birth.  
>  **3)** Is this the last we'll see of this family? Don't ask _me_ ; I'm not in charge here.


End file.
